Chapter 17
Ruby
I’m walking down the hall with my coffee and my shattered dignity when the elevator doors start to close.
“Hold it!” I call, rushing forward.
A hand shoots out and stops the doors.
A very familiar hand.
A very expensive watch.
A very cursed heartbeat-inducing silhouette.
No.
NO.
This is illegal.
“Ruby,” Jaxon says, stepping back to let me enter.
I step inside like a woman entering a lion enclosure. The doors slide shut with a soft click that feels way too ominous.
We’re alone.
Oh God.
Oh God no.
Oh God YES?
No. No. Focus.
He stands beside me, close enough that the heat of him brushes my arm. His cologne curls around me, warm and clean with a hint of something dark beneath it.
I stare straight ahead like a Victorian woman trying not to faint.
He presses the button for the top floor with one long, slow movement of his hand that absolutely does not need to be that sensual.
The elevator starts moving.
He looks down at me. I feel it before I see it.
“Rough day?” he murmurs.
His voice is soft. Dangerous. Designed in a lab to ruin me.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“You’re shaking again.”
“I AM NOT..."
The elevator jolts slightly as it moves to the next floor. My balance shifts and I grab the rail.
Jaxon’s hand moves instinctively, steadying my elbow.
My entire body lights up like I’ve been plugged into a socket.
We both freeze.
His hand. My skin. The warm pressure of his touch.
He doesn’t hold me. He doesn’t grip.
He just… steadies.
Then lets go.
But the ghost of it lingers.
I swallow. “I’m okay.”
“You sure?” he asks quietly.
I nod too fast. “Yes.”
“Good,” he says, leaning closer, lowering his voice. “Because next time I touch you, it won’t be accidental.”
My knees nearly buckle.
Before I can form a coherent response, the elevator dings.
The doors open.
I flee like prey that survived by one singular miracle.
Behind me, I hear him laugh, soft, low, devastating.
I’m not going to make it through this workday.
JAXON
I should return to my office.
I should respond to the eight emails waiting for me. And the call from my CFO. And the meeting with legal.
Instead, I’m thinking about her.
The elevator moment replaying in my mind on a loop.
The way she inhaled when I touched her. The way she tried so hard not to lean into me. The way her eyes widened when I told her the truth.
Next time I touch you, it won’t be accidental.
I meant it.
I sit at my desk, loosen my tie, and stare at my schedule. I need another excuse to see her. Something organic. Something that won’t scare her into running again.
I scroll through my calendar.
Ah.
There it is.
A team briefing with the editorial department. Large group. Safe environment. Professional.
I pick up the phone.
“Move the meeting up,” I tell my assistant. “Today. In an hour.”
“Yes, Mr. Cole.”
I hang up.
I lean back in my chair.
She won’t expect this.
But she’ll walk in that room, see me at the head of the table…
And she’ll know exactly what I’m doing.
I don’t chase often. But when I do?
I win.
RUBY
I’m halfway through pretending to work when Ava appears at my desk looking like she’s charging into battle.
“Emergency team meeting,” she hisses. “Now. Conference Room 4.”
“What? Why?”
“No idea. Probably boring corporate bullshit.”
Fantastic. Exactly what my nerves need.
I grab my notebook and follow the herd of bodies down the hall. The chatter is normal. Calm. Everyone is walking like this is just another meeting.
But the second I step inside the room…
My stomach drops into the floor.
Because at the head of the massive glass table, in a perfect crisp suit, sits Jaxon Cole.
He doesn’t look at anyone else.
His eyes lift.
Find me instantly.
And lock.
Heat slides down my spine.
I freeze, gripping my notebook like a weapon. Ava bumps into my back.
“Oh DAMN,” she whispers. “King of Corporate Hotness himself.”
I want to die.
Or evaporate.
Or both.
“Take a seat,” Jaxon says, smooth and controlled.
He’s not talking to me specifically.
But it feels like he is.
I slide into a chair as far from him as I can manage. It doesn’t help. His presence fills the room.
He starts the meeting, professional, poised, focused, but every time he speaks, his gaze flicks to me for a fraction of a second.
No one else notices.
But I do.
It’s intentional.
Calculated.
Predatory in the gentlest, most devastating way.
Then he says something that almost stops my heart.
“I’ll need someone from editorial assigned to work directly with me for the next few weeks.”
My hands go cold.
A few heads turn. Ava actually grabs my arm under the table and SQUEEZES.
“I’ll choose the person today,” he continues.
His eyes slide to mine again. Not subtly.
My pulse slams so hard it hurts.
No. No no no no.
He can’t.
He wouldn’t.
He absolutely would.
The meeting ends. People stand. Papers shuffle.
My brain is melting.
As I stand, my pen clatters out of my hand and rolls across the table, directly toward him.
Of course it does.
He picks it up.
Holds it.
Then looks at me.
“Ruby,” he says quietly. “I believe this is yours.”
No. I can’t breathe.
I step forward to grab it, and as I do, his fingers brush mine.
On purpose.
Slow.
Lingering.
Electric.
My entire body ignites.
He smiles.
Small. Controlled. Devastating.
“This isn’t over,” he murmurs.
My blood turns molten.
I turn and walk out before my knees give up completely.
Behind me, I hear Ava whisper: “OH SHE IS SO SCREWED.”
She’s right. I absolutely am.